Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ballad of the Future Warrior ❯ Intoduction to the New Future ( Chapter 1 )

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Disclaimer: Dragonball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. It is owned/licensed
by Toei, Bird Studios, Shonen Jump, Funimation, and Viz. That having been said, enjoy!

A dull day indeed. The sky was dark with a hint of red from the destruction an multiple fires set by the two androids, #17 an #18.

A lone warrior stood in their path. His hair hanging down just about to his eyes.

His eyes were a bright blue, and even though they were a soft and harmless looking pair of eyes on a normal occasion they fluttered with rage on this day.

Few survivors of the androids were able to witness such a site and live to speak of it.

The warrior pulled a sword from his back, slowly unsheathing it.

Knowing that he could very well die he had to make sure he hadn’t lost this fight.

The fate of the planet depended on it.

The female android #18 simply laughed as she knew that her and her brother were superior to this warrior.

“You stand no chance. We killed your master, and all of his masters with ease. What makes you think you have any chance against us?”

The #17 android spoke in a cocky manner.

“I have one thing they didn’t.”

The warrior spoke softly as he had remembered what he had previously gone through.

“I’ve seen you defeated by a monster. A monster whom I have already defeated.”

He spoke a bit enraged this time as he lunged towards the androids, pouring his energy into his sword.

The androids retaliated by rushing back.

A flash of light.

And all was gone.

No warriors, no people, and no signs of life.

The city had become desolate.

All the fires have been extinguished by the power of the lone warrior.

His sword was all that remained of either side of the battle field.

A sword that became a symbol of hope for the rest of humanity.

People had heard of the fight, even though few have actually seen it.

The only proof that the fight had ever even happened was that the destruction had ceased.

The world was all but destroyed and even the worlds strongest fighters had been long but extinct.

Twenty years after the fateful battle, there was a mountain, a mountain full of beauty.

Truly a mark that nature was returning to it’s former self.

A mountain which overlooked a city.

The new world capital.

Most people were happy with the reestablishment of civilization, but some were only frustrated by it.

Some who had never known anything other than anarchy, and fending for themselves had formed an alliance of rebels against the cities that followed the new leaders of the world.

The economy was just starting to boom again when the rebels, who called themselves The Army of None, had attacked the capitol city.

Two martial artists had seen this from their training on the majestic mountain and quickly rushed to the city.

The city was quickly overrun by the Army of None and were left defenseless.

The two warriors had arrived as the Army had found it’s way into the cities armory.

One of the warriors had stood tall, about six foot four inches in height.

His skin looked as that of chocolate.

His black hair braided back in corn rows.

His eyes were a deep brown that were filled with hope for the future.

He wore a sleeveless hooded white sweatshirt, and blue pants that appeared to be too big around his legs.

His shoes were average sneakers.

He was the strongest known fighter on all of the planet, and he was only known as Art.

A name he chose to be known as since he had never wanted to be a fighter but an artist.

He wasn’t even born when the androids had attacked, but he had always taken an interest in art, which would explain his devotion to the arts of fighting.

He was only three years of age when the legendary warrior had defeated the androids, pitting him at the age of twenty three at this point in time.

The other warrior stood no where near the height of his counterpart, only ranging in at about 5 foot 6 inches in height.

He had his hair, which was about four inches in length, pulled back.

He kept it that way to prevent any distractions in battle.

His hair was a mixture of brown and blonde, commonly referred to as dirty blonde.

His eyes were a dark green and filled with hate, hate for the people who had taken his life away, the people who had killed his little sister when he was only 10 years old.

His cloths consisted of a loosely fitted dark purple, nearly black tank top, and wristbands.

His pants were the same as Arts, only his were a dark grey.

His shoes were slip on shoes that looked as light as the air, obviously made for fighting, and matching the color of his shirt.

He had come to be referred to as Tool for his devotion to fixing, and creating things on his free time.

It had only been six years since The Army of None had killed his sister.

A stray bullet had set this boy down the path of being a martial artist.

“Leave now or we’ll be forced to make you leave.”

Art spoke with no hesitation and no concern for the army they faced.

The army simply laughed at this gesture, which caused Art to laugh at their arrogance and Tool to become enraged at the lack of respect that he thought they had earned from the army.

Without hesitation Tool raised his left hand and shot an energy blast into the army, thinning their ranks by a significant amount.

The army that had remained quickly dispersed from the city in fear of what they had just witnessed.

Art and Tool were the two strongest fighters on the planet, that people knew of anyways.

Art was a calm and collected person who knew that diplomacy was the first thing to try during attacks.

But Tool was filled with hate for the army that had killed his poor sister, who was all he had in the world.

Tool’s first reaction in a fight was to obliterate as many of the enemy as possible as quick as possible.

His anger had subsided quite a bit since he had begun to train with Art.

Art and Tool were the only two who had survived watching the warrior face off against the androids.

The outcome of the fight was that the warrior who they had come to know as Trunks had come out victoriously.

At the cost of his left eye he had survived the attack.

And he had secretly trained Art and Tool form that day on.

Trunks had helped rebuild the Earth and tried his best to help civilization flourish.

Trunks had become tired of all he fighting.

He had never known anything different and it sickened him to think much of it.

He found an old temple in the mountains that overlooked the capitol city and resided there in secrecy to all but his pupils.

Who were told to make a memorial to him with his sword in the tombstone so people would think he was dead.

Trunks simply didn’t want to look at the people he had saved.

For all they would see in his eyes was suffering, the suffering of all the lives he had watched slip through his hands.

Trunks’ mother, Bulma, had died only three years after the fight with the androids.

She died of cancer, and had never regretted a day in her life, she was especially proud of her only son Trunks for becoming the new hero of the Earth.

Bulma never did know that Trunks had lived through the battle.

She died believing her son was the greatest hero the Earth had ever known.

Trunks saw it different and was ashamed to have lived through the fight.

He felt he owed some sort of payment to all the fighters who had fell before him.

But this was only the beginning of his new life.

A baby boy, born to a human woman by the name of Terra, had received the name of Boxer.

Boxer was the son of Trunks, and was born eight years ago.

Boxer never knew that his father was the hero who had died to save the Earth.

And if Trunks had kept his way then Boxer would never have found out.

Just some character introductions. More info on all of the characters and some new ones will be in future chapters. Chapter two will be uploaded to pick up were this leaves off. R&R please